Hidden Like The Shadow
by Berry Red
Summary: Hermione reflects back on her feelings for Snape before school ends. One Shot.


Disclaimer: All characters belonging to original author.  
A/N Berry Red: I am in need of a beta who is open-minded and free-ranged from ratings of G to NC-17… :)

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Hidden Like the Shadow

I don't know when it happened exactly, but unmistakably it did. It unmistakably, unbelievably, unremorsefully did happen. I fell in love with Severus Snape. I fell in love with the git, the bat, the vampire, the scornful, the snarky, and most feared professor of Hogwarts. When my friends finally figured out who I've been fawning over for the last year and a half, they did what I expected them to do. Look at me with shocked saucer-sized eyes and gap like fish. They called me crazy and I thought I was possessed. Of course they were surprised. I was too, when I discovered where my true feelings lied. I remember a philosopher saying once that: "Love works in wondrous ways. The partner chosen might not always be right, but that's the way it is."

I remember that day as clear as the current. I was walking along the corridors, unaware of the time of night because I couldn't sleep. I've been thinking of the stress of the end of term tests, and the fight I just had with one of my close friends. Without realizing, I had walked into the moonlight going towards the woods. It was there that I saw a sight that took my breath away.

At first I was afraid, not knowing whether to run or to investigate the misty figure that I saw sitting near the lake. But some mystical force drew me closer to the shape, drew me to the image, until I was but a few feet away from it.

The moonlight shed upon him like a blanket of soft silk. It slid from his pale forehead to his distinctive nose; then slid its way down the tight collars of his robes to end at the ripples at his waist. His shadow was cast behind him, lingering with the same enticing effect but not as well known as his physical body. His strong jaw line was being supported by the back of his right hand, and they were supported by the elbow carelessly put on his raised right knee. His brow was drawn together in deep thought, making his expression more mysterious and tempting. He was like a dark prince. A tall, intelligent, looming, and forbidden dark prince.

There was a slight breeze about in the air. It caused his hair to weaver softly across his face, caressing the skin that I cannot touch. The moonlight and the breeze seem to mingle together and melt into him, engaging what appears to become a reflection of his well hidden soul outside onto his features.

I dared not to break the silence, in fact, I think I could not. I was frozen to the spot, frozen in time and space. And I was content in just watching him, watching his soft breathing go in and out of his body in pace with the rise and fall of his chest. All troublesome thoughts faded out of my conscience as I just gazed upon his form. He was calm, calm as I had ever seen him. He was peaceful, and I was peaceful.

I slowly kneeled down onto the grass beside him and just looked at him. The environment and us seemed to liquefy together leisurely: the moonlight; the grass; the trees; the breeze; the tiny sparkles on the lake; the navy blue sky dotted with candlelit stars; his shadow; my shadow; his body; my body.

My eyes wandered over his whole being, finally setting on his thin but luscious lips. I thought of how it would be to kiss him, to feel his quiet breathing on top of mine, and how his lips would feel rubbing against and between mine. I wonder if he's kiss me softly, letting his soul seep through to me, confessing all his sins and retelling all his pain to me with that single kiss. And I wonder if he'd rather kiss me hard and passionately, in where he could let his kiss show me all the inner flame and emotions that he had gathered inside himself. As I thought about it more, my lips started to quiver in anticipation.

I did not expect him to acknowledge my presence, I was not even aware that he had known I've been there. He asked me, in his usual sneer, that if I was so cold, why don't I just get back into the castle? He then deducted house points for being out past curfew and assigned a detention without even turning his head towards me. Regretfully, I ran back to the castle and into the cold welcome-ness of my bed.

The next few days were spent as if I was walking in a dream. Everywhere I went, I thought I caught a glimpse of him; but as I get closer, I realize that it was just someone else with the dark hair, or the looming features. Every time I'm in his class, I couldn't concentrate. My eyes would just glaze over until he catches me and yells. I would always try to sneak a peak at him during meal time, and "accidentally" bump into him, or walk around the dungeons in hopes of catching a sight of him. There was never a hint or clue to him ever remembering that night. His attitude never changed, and he never even asked me why I was watching him.

A year and a half was spent like that. Along with all the confusion, anger, longing, sorrow, and jealously that went with it. Now it is the last day I will be at Hogwarts. The last day I will ever talk to him or see him, I could not give up my last opportunity.

I briefly remembered walking towards the dungeons. I briefly remembered the pounding of my foot along the cold dark stones, matching the pounding my heart. I briefly remembered me lifting my hand up to his door and knocking, then hearing a demanding, "Enter." As my hand reached to open the door, time seemed to slow. My hand felt like it was going through water as it inched towards to push open the door. My foot stepped through the rushing currents and into the Potions classroom steadily, and I felt my body turn to face him with great difficulty.

He was writing something down on a piece of scroll, he didn't lift his head. I stood there, again for the second and last time of my life, I just looked at him. My eyes softened as I took him in, all of him, all of the classroom, all of me watching him. Hearing no sound from me, he drawled out a question to why I was here bothering him. I didn't reply, but I still stood there, waiting to capture one last thing in my mind before I left. It took about two minutes, but finally he lifted his head. My brain worked fast, it snapped images of his eyes, his ever seeing eyes; and I worked my way into the depth of the two black pits, never knowing what they hold. Before he could open his mouth to sneer out whatever else was on his mind, I took the liberty to voice something.

"Thank you, Professor Snape… Severus." And with that I turned. I turned out of his classroom, out of his sight, and out of my feelings.

I do not ever regret that night. I do not ever regret loving him. I do not regret the choices I made, or the things I haven't done. I had left him, a better decision for the both of us. I had hid my feelings inside, and they were sealed and sent floating in a bottle in the middle of the lonely ocean. But I still have his images in my mind; his image lingers on me, covered, mysterious and dark like a shadow. A shadow, maybe, his shadow.


End file.
